


Between the Raindrops

by westgate



Category: Free!
Genre: Comfort, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Thunderstorms, makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 19:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11424429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westgate/pseuds/westgate
Summary: Makoto hates thunderstorms and finds himself alone in Tokyo during one. Resigned to curling up in a ball all night waiting for it to pass, there's a familiar knock at his door. Did he really think Haru would let him wait out this storm alone?





	Between the Raindrops

The windows rattled at a particularly large gust of wind, its eerie shrill echoing loudly in the apartment as the rain pounded out an unsteady rhythm against the glass. Makoto fisted his hands tighter into the duvet cover surrounding him as a deafeningly loudly crack of thunder boomed outside. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, trying to remember any and all techniques to calm his heart which hammered forcefully against his chest.

Really, it was ridiculous sight: Makoto was sat cross-legged on his couch, cowering in the nest of blankets that he’d gathered hastily from his bedroom. A worn, striped gray duvet was wrapped tightly around him as if it could possibly shield him from the storm that raged on outside. He knew that the cover was all but useless against the storm, but the soft material that surrounded him made him feel somewhat safe. If only the storm would let up soon.

Another crack of thunder startled him, and this time it was accompanied by a bolt of lightning that light up his dim apartment. He held his breath and counted… 1…. 2…. 3…. 4…. 5…. 6…. until the next burst of thunder eventually exploded in the sky. He vaguely recalled that the closer together the claps of thunder were, the sooner they would pass, but it had little effect in comforting him as the sky erupted in chaos outside.

He knew he was a full-grown adult and that it was an irrational and ridiculous fear, but that didn't stop his anxiety from bubbling up and all but consuming him. Quite simply: Makoto hated thunderstorms. Or perhaps that was an understatement. More like: he was terrified of them. As the sky boomed threateningly, he felt small and helpless and in moments like these, he was aware of how unforgiving and frankly menacing nature could be.

Thunderstorms had been a fear of his for as far back as he could remember. He was a jumpy child, hell he was still a jumpy adult, but thunder was just as frightening as a kid as it was for him now. On occasion, he would hear teasing whispers behind his back about the fact that he was a giant compared to his friends but a jumpy one who hid behind his shorter companions when startled. You would expect someone of his height and stature to be fearless, but more than anything Makoto felt like a coward as he nestled further into his cocoon on the couch.

It was then that he was overcome with the realization that he’d never truly been alone during a storm before, especially not one as large scale as this. The thought unsettled him further, and he closed his eyes and practiced his breathing exercises again. Anything to stop the flutter of nerves in his stomach.

The facts were these: He was alone in his small apartment, which suddenly felt smaller than ever before. The closest person (Haru) was over 15 minutes away. The storm outside showed no signs of letting up. As if the universe aimed to give him the finger, the lights flickered off momentarily, and Makoto’s heart almost stopped.

He wished desperately that he could just sleep through all of this and wake up to the sun shining outside, but he was so incredibly on edge that there was zero possibility of sleep. More realistically: he would spend the next several hours very aware at how slow the time was passing, curled up into himself waiting for the sky to clear.

When his doorbell suddenly rang Makoto actually fell off the couch in surprise, narrowly avoiding his coffee table. He fought with the blankets that followed him with the fall until he emerged from the pile victorious. Grabbing the duvet again and securing it firmly around him, he padded to the door to figure out just who the hell was crazy enough to be outside in this weather; his heart raced just thinking about being outside at the moment.

The peephole in his door distorted the image, but it was hard to mistake the mop of black hair that stood outside of his apartment. Makoto quickly fumbled with the deadbolt on his door -he knew that it stood no chance in safeguarding him from the rain, but it made him feel better to have it locked -and opened the door to let in his very drenched best friend.

Haru hastily entered the apartment, and Makoto shut the door quickly behind him to prevent any more rain from entering the room. When he looked at Haru, he couldn’t help but chuckle (the time first he’d smiled in literally hours since the storm had started) at the sight of him.

Haru was an absolute mess.

His usually kept dark hair was plastered to his forehead and stuck up wildly in nearly every direction. The light blue sweatshirt that he often wore (one of Makoto’s favorites) was about three shades darker than normal, clinging heavily to his body and absolutely soaked through. Makoto was vaguely aware that Haru was shivering, although his best friend tried to downplay it. And yet despite his appearance, Haru seemed completely at ease. Makoto could even swear that he saw a smile pull at the corner of his lips.

“Haru?” he questioned finally, trying to figure out how to ask Haru just what on earth he was doing in his apartment without seeming rude. Because it wasn’t an intrusion at all and in fact was quite a relief that he was there. Haru hadn't been there for more than 2 minutes, and Makoto could already feel some of the tension leaving his body. He wasn’t alone now.

Haru rubbed at his face, attempting to tame the mess on top of his head. It was a futile effort, and he now looked even more ridiculous than he did before. It was a cute sight, but Makoto kept that thought to himself. Sensing that the conversation wouldn’t continue until he gave Makoto an explanation, Haru finally spoke up.

“I got caught in the storm, and your apartment was closer.”

The answer might fool most people, but Makoto had known Haru for far too long and could tell when he was lying. As he racked his brain, trying to figure out the true reason for Haru’s presence, it hit him and warmth flooded throughout his entire body: Haru was there for him, but was too stubborn to admit it.

Deep blue eyes found his own, and they had a silent conversation. They read each other easily without exchanging words: Haru dared Makoto to call him out on his bluff but knew Makoto had figured out the real reason he was there. If Haru didn’t want to admit it out loud though, it was fine with him and so Makoto changed the conversation abruptly.

“Haruuuuuu, you’re going to catch a cold standing there like that. What were you thinking, recklessly trudging out into this storm?” He moved to shorten the distance between them, face scrunching when he felt the water droplets on the floor begin to soak through his sock.

“Look at you,” he said with a soft smile, “you’re a mess.” Acting on impulse, he reached his hand out from under the duvet and ruffled Haru’s unkempt hair for dramatic effect.

“Do you really think you look any less ridiculous,” Haru shot back, sizing up Makoto: the human burrito.

Makoto’s cheeks flushed pink, but his embarrassment was short lived when another clap of thunder roared from outside, shaking the floors of his apartment. He instinctively grabbed onto Haru’s shirt in a panic, the touch grounding him slightly. Makoto frowned again when he felt the wet fabric between his fingers.

“Oh, Haru!” he exclaimed, suddenly aware that the other boy was standing there in his front hall soaked to the skin. He couldn’t decide what was worse: the drenched sneakers adoring his feet or the wet denim that clung heavily to his legs. Still wrapped in his comforter, Makoto quickly retreated and returned a few moments later with a fluffy green towel.

Haru accepted the offer, running it over his hair and patting down his face and neck. It was quiet for a moment before Haru admitted: “I didn’t bring any clothes with me.”

When he returned from his search through his wardrobe, Makoto was clutching the orange and yellow shirt he usually slept in, a pair of worn boxers, and the smallest pair of sweatpants that he owned.

Unashamed, Haru stripped silently in Makoto’s hallway, as he peeled off the wet clothes and piled them into a heap on the floor. They were no stranger to undressing in front of each other: years of swim practice in cramped locker rooms meant that they’d seen their fair share of each other, and yet Makoto still flushed and looked away as Haru removed his briefs in favor of the new dry pair. They were a bit too loose, and Makoto could see his hip bone peek out when Haru lifted up his arms.

Makoto was so ridiculously tall and broad that his clothes all but swallowed Haru whole. The shirt, a favorite of his, hung loosely off of one shoulder dwarfing Haru’s slender frame. He really did try and find a pair of sweatpants that would maybe fit Haru, but the legs of the gray fabric pooled around his ankles, several inches too long. Haru peeled them off, instead content in padding around Makoto’s apartment in boxers.

Haru quirked an eyebrow at the pile of blankets, and Makoto sheepishly smiled. He expected Haru to sit down on the couch with him, but instead, the dark haired boy made his way into the kitchen and began to rummage through Makoto’s cabinets. When he moved to follow him, Haru stopped him in his tracks and ordered, “Sit,” motioning to the couch. He paused a moment and then added a softer, “Please,” for good measure. Makoto did as he was told.

While Haru made himself at home in Makoto’s kitchen, he twiddled his thumbs idly on the couch, trying to ignore the harsh sound of rain outside and instead focus on the sound of ceramic clanking in the other room. He settled again into his comfortable nest on the sofa and waited patiently for Haru to return.

Several minutes passed until Makoto’s vision was obscured by a mug of tea hanging in front of his face, Haru waiting for him to accept the offered beverage. He smiled when he saw what mug Haru chose for him: it was shaped like a cat, little ears and all, and was something Haru had bought for him several Christmases ago. Makoto reached up and grabbed the cup, muttering his thanks, and brought the hot beverage to his lips.

An involuntary sigh of content escaped his mouth as the hot liquid moved through him, warming his insides. It was peach tea, his very favorite because the sweetness reminded him of summertime, and he felt a whole different kind of warmth flood through him because Haru hated the stuff and still made a cup for Makoto anyway.

He didn’t even have to glance at Haru to know that he was drinking green tea in the cup, his cup, with the little dolphins on it.

By all means, Makoto owned the cup, he’d bought it after all, but Haru was literally the only one who used it so it might as well be his. He’d made tea for company before, but always made sure to give them literally any other mug because somehow offering out that specific mug to anyone else just seemed wrong.

They sat in a comfortable silence, sipping their tea and enjoying each other’s company until another clap of thunder made Makoto squeak in surprise and jerk his hand, spilling some of his drink onto the duvet. His hand still shook mildly from the sudden noise and he sighed defeatedly, wishing that he wasn’t a jumpy baby 90% of the time. The weather outside didn’t seem to affect Haru, so why did it have to affect him so much?

As if Haru could sense his emotional turmoil, he put his tea down and reached out to place one comforting hand on Makoto’s shoulder, his other hand reaching to grab the still-damp towel and dab at the small spill on the fabric. When he tugged at the corner of the duvet he already knew the answer would be yes, so instead of politely asking if he could join Makoto under the blanket, Haru settled on, “Move over and make some room for me.” Makoto lifted up the corner obligingly and Haru scooted closer on the couch so that they were pressed against each other’s side.

Haru understood that touch comforted Makoto in times of distress, even as a young child. In fact, he and Makoto had always been touchy, it was just the nature of their friendship. He couldn’t even count all of the times that Makoto had grabbed his sleeve, searching for reassurance, or the times he had practically used Haru as a human shield, trying to hide his tall frame behind the smaller boy. And Haru wasn’t one for contact -he would often go out of his way to avoid it at all possible times -but it was just different with Makoto. As much as his touch comforted Makoto, Makoto’s touch comforted and grounded him.

The storm didn’t appear to be quitting anytime soon, offering no signs of relief or even letting up on the rain. Sensing that Makoto required further distraction, Haru grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and flicked the TV on, flipping through the channels and proudly settling on a Ghibli movie that already appeared to be half way through. Makoto had a weakness for the bright vivid world of animation, and Haru hoped that he would appreciate the choice.

They readjusted themselves on the couch so that Makoto could rest his head on Haru’s lap, favoring it over his former upright position. Haru made no objections and welcomed him silently, carding his hand absentmindedly through Makoto’s brunette locks.

Makoto buried his head into the fabric of Haru’s shirt and it relaxed him in a way that he didn’t think anything else quite could, as he breathed in the faint scent of chlorine that Haru seemed to radiate at all times. They finished the end of the movie wrapped up in each other, exchanging casual remarks about what was happening on the screen.

Despite the storm raging outside, Makoto thought that they could sit like this forever and he’d be perfectly content. He still tensed at the bright flashes of lightning and startled at the occasional (less frequent) boom of thunder, but Haru’s presence soothed him like no other and he felt that familiar warmth that he’d come to associate with Haru spread throughout his body.

The whole scene was alarmingly intimate, and Makoto couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. He pushed through the butterflies that settled in his stomach and instead tried to reign in the emotions that seemed to overwhelm him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment when his admiration for his friend had turned into something more (perhaps middle school), but some part of him felt like he had maybe always loved Haru.

Years of practice had helped Makoto learn how to keep his feelings buried and under control, always right there beneath the surface but never springing free into an open confession. Sure, Makoto was scared of thunderstorms, but there was one thing that was entirely more frightening than even the most terrible of storms, and it was jeopardizing their friendship and losing Haru. And if it made him a coward, then so be it. Makoto would rather continue to love Haru silently than risk a life without Haru by his side, because the thought was truly unbearable.

Haru’s hand began to inch further down until it was cupping Makoto’s face, rubbing slow circles into his jaw. Makoto leaned into the touch and let his eyes flutter shut, content and happy. He might not have the strength to tell Haru his true feelings, but he could at least thank him for trudging through the storm to make sure that he was okay.

“Haru, I…” he started softly, but the words quickly died on his lips as a strong gust of wind howled outside and the lights in the apartment promptly shut off.

Makoto sprung up, clutching on to Haru’s shirt as a reflex. The TV and the gentle hum of his building had at least helped to drown out the sounds of the storm outside, but with the power off the sounds were suddenly amplified.

He felt his heart thrum against his chest again, pounding out a panicked rhythm, and his anxiety was suddenly as present as ever. His breathing came in short, quick gasps, but the pair of arms that suddenly wrapped around his middle pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Haru?" he asked again, his voice quieter and shakier than he wanted it to be. The arms around him tightened again, and he began to relax within the embrace.

"Shhh, it's okay I've got you." Makoto could barely make out the shape of him in the light, but Haru's face was pressed inches from his, whispering calming words in his ear. They sat like that for a moment while Makoto's breathing calmed before Haru pulled back and untangled himself from the heap of blankets.

Since Makoto lived in a shared apartment building, power outages weren't something he could just remedy himself. It was up to his landlord to flip the circuit breaker, and who knew when that would happen. He saw the light blue glow of his phone screen from across the room, which cast a beautiful shadow over Haru's features. He was rummaging around in the kitchen in search of something and made a small noise of success as he dove into a drawer and emerged with several candles and a lighter.

Makoto forgot that he that he even had those types of supplies, but vaguely recalled his mom packing him an "in case of emergency" kit. Even from far away, she was still taking care of him. And now so was Haru.

The soft ignition of a lighter sounded and soon the room was light up in a hazy orange glow. There were at least 5 candles, wide at the base with long flames licking at the tops. With their addition, the whole atmosphere of the room had changed to a more comfortable, maybe even inviting space. Leave it to Haru to take a bad situation and immediately figure out just how to make Makoto feel better -he had been doing it for so long now, but it left Makoto feeling fuzzy almost every time.

Haru padded back over to the couch, placing a candle on the table in front of them as he looked over and shot a small warm smile at Makoto. "That's better, now isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," Makoto responded, focusing on the shadows of the candles danced on the wall, and how they light up Haru's face making him look more radiant than ever.

Blue eyes caught him staring, and Makoto ducked his head away to hide a blush that threatened to spread across his face.

“Haru, I…” he tried again, last time interrupted by the power outage. “Uh… thank you. For everything.” Haru nodded in understanding, but Makoto continued because he had a habit of letting his mouth run.

“When I came to Tokyo, I was honestly so terrified. It’s a big city, it’s very far from home where my parents and our friends are, it’s just... this daunting new chapter in my life. But the one thing that made me knew I was going to be okay was that I had you here, Haruka.”

He paused as he noticed Haru inch closer again, settling beneath the blanket and leaning against his side.

“I know that you went out of your way tonight to come here and comfort me,” he admitted finally, needing to address the situation out loud.

“I was honestly pretty terrified before you got here, but you being here means more to me than I think you know. I know I’m a terrified coward 90% of the time, and I appreciate you looking out for me.”

It was when Haru grabbed his face between his hands and turned it so that he was staring into deep blue eyes that he let out a startled gasp. “Makoto, listen to me. You. Are. Not. A. Coward.”

Makoto tried to turn his gaze away, embarrassed by Haru’s sudden proximity and intensity of words, but Haru kept his face still, forcing their eyes to meet.

“You are gentle, and kind, and smart, and strong, and Makoto. You are everything.” He leaned in so their faces were centimeters apart now, and Makoto felt his heartbeat quicken as he tried to process just what was happening.

“Haru, what are you…”

“I was worried about you.” His words were barely a whisper now, breath ghosting across Makoto’s lips. The bored expression he usually wore was a soft one, as he gazed into Makoto’s eyes.

“I saw the weather advisory and knew that it was your first storm away from home… and before I knew it I would out my front door in the soaking rain coming to find you.” He pressed his forehead against Makoto’s so that now there was barely any space between the two of them.

“Haruka?” His voice came out in a quiet rush of breathlessness, and before he could question any further, Makoto felt a soft but certain press of lips against his own.

It was the first time that night that he had forgotten the thunderstorm completely. Nothing else mattered, his world had narrowed down to this one, inexplicably beautiful moment that seemed to last both forever and was over far too soon. The shock of it all didn’t leave him with much time to react before Haru pulled his lips away and blue eyes met his once more, searching for an answer.

“I hope that was okay.”

For such a bold and certain move, Haru now seemed so unsure. It was unlike him to feel self-conscious about his actions -Haru was unapologetically Haru, and Makoto loved that about him. But this was uncharted waters, both terrifying and exciting and for once the dark-haired boy did not know what to do next.

Feeling braver than he had ever felt in his entire life, it was Makoto’s turn to return the intimate gesture and sweep Haru up into a kiss, cupping his face gently in his large hand. He felt Haru smile against his lips and his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest as Haru returned the kiss and his hand found Makoto’s, interlacing their fingers. They traded sweet kisses before Makoto pulled back for air.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted sheepishly.

He felt like he was walking on air. Years of pining and imagining what this moment would be like hadn’t prepared him for how truly incredible the sensation was. He had resigned himself to the fact that it might never happen -just being in the proximity of Haru was enough for him. And now he was living out his dream with the beautiful boy that set next to him, his best friend and the love of his life.

“Me too. If anyone’s the coward it’s me. I’ve almost kissed you ten times now, and every time I psyche myself out.”

Makoto let out a genuine laugh and squeezed Haru’s hand in reassurance. “You had nothing to worry about Haru. It’s you. It has always been and will always be you.”

In nearly two decades of friendship, Makoto had never seen a smile like the one he was wearing light up Haru’s face -it was breathtakingly beautiful. He took a mental note to memorize every detail of the scene, because it was a moment he wanted to remember forever.

The storm hadn’t let up, but it was completely forgotten by the two of them who were now so wrapped up in each other. They lay on the couch next to each other, snuggled up in the duvet as they shared tender kisses and explored each other's mouths in a synchronized rhythm. It felt so incredibly right, like maybe they had spent lifetimes kissing each other.

Despite the storm that raged outside, in this moment everything was perfect and there was no place else Makoto would rather be than wrapped up in the arms of the boy that meant everything to him. With Haru around, Makoto could take on just about anything.

**Author's Note:**

> These two just make my heart melt tbh. Thanks for reading! [Come say hi on Tumblr](http://www.westgates.tumblr.com) [or Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/westgatesss) and feel free to literally always talk to me about these good good boys. 
> 
> Shoutout to goldenringboy for being for also being my wonderful beta.


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